I Know You Know But You're Not Telling the Truth
by windscryer
Summary: “Call me Shawn. I think it would be awkward for us to remain formal considering we almost entered into an extortion agreement just now.” No slash.


Disclaimer: I own neither Criminal Minds or Psych, though there is some evidence I might be owned _by_ one or both. :D

Totally random plot bunny attacked me out of nowhere when I was catching up on CM. I'm pretty sure it's been lurking in the back of my brain from the first time them mentioned Reid's eidetic memory, but only now attacked.

* * *

Shawn said nothing, his eyes remaining closed as his visitor came to a stop in front of his desk.

"What are you doing?"

It was Dr. Spencer Reid, the kid prodigy from the FBI profiling team. They were supposed to be leaving today, but apparently their business was not yet complete here in Santa Barbara.

Shame about his first name, but it could have been worse.

"I'm listening to Spirit Radio," Shawn said without opening his eyes.

"What?" Reid asked, sounding quite confused.

"You know how the police have scanners?"

"Yeeees?"

"Well, this is kind of like that, only with non-corporeal beings."

Actually, he'd just been contemplating taking a nap, but messing with the kid was just as good a way to pass the time.

There was a lengthy pause, during which he was sure he was getting that look of puzzlement Reid generally had around him.

"You know that's a felony, right?"

Shawn opened his eyes and arched an eyebrow. "No, actually. I wasn't aware there were laws about monitoring spiritual communications. Do I need a court order for a wiretap if there are no actual _wires_ to tap?"

Reid smiled in amusement and shook his head. "Not that."

"Oh." Shawn thought for a second, pursing his lips. "I don't think you can be arrested for being awesome either, so I'm not sure what crime you think I've committed."

Reid snorted. "I was referring to the defrauding of the Santa Barbara Police Department."

Shawn's head cocked to the side, his grin crooked.

"I'm afraid I don't know—"

"You're not psychic. For one thing, there have been no documented cases of true psychic episodes, in either clairvoyance or premonition, despite extensive testing by both educational and government studies."

"It's never been disproved either," Shawn pointed out, spreading his hands and leaning back in his chair.

Reid's head bobbed to the side. "That's _technically_ true, but absence of proof isn't proof itself."

"Well okay then, Mr.—"

"Doctor. Or, uh, Agent," he conceded.

Shawn repressed a grin. "_Doctor_ Smartypants."

Reid snorted in amusement and looked slightly embarrassed at the correction now that he knew what came after.

"If I'm not psychic, how do you explain my _gifts_?"

The wry smile was Reid's now. "Offhand? Extensive training in observation combined with an eidetic memory and an above average intelligence that allows you to make connections most people don't readily come up with—you'd make one helluvan _actual_ detective with your skills of deduction. But none of that qualifies you as a psychic."

Shawn gave him a long scrutinizing look.

"Okay, look," he said on a sigh. He pulled out his wallet and thumbed through quickly to see how much he had, then selected all but a ten.

He held it out and Reid looked at it like he was offering a venomous snake, eyes flicking between Shawn's face and the money.

"What— What is this? Are you _bribing_ me? Because bribery of a federal agent—"

Shawn frowned. "No, I'm not _bribing_ you. I thought _you_ were blackmailing _me_."

An awkward moment passed, then they both laughed and Shawn put his money away.

"Mr. Spencer—"

"Call me Shawn. I think it would be awkward for us to remain formal considering we almost entered into an extortion agreement just now."

"Shawn," Reid said, testing it out. "Okay. You can call me Spencer then, I guess."

Shawn made a face. "Yeeeeeah, that's kind of weird too. Considering it's _my_ last name. Kind of has a," he waved his hands between them, "sort of estranged cousin feel to it."

Reid laughed at that. "Reid work for you? I'm sort of out of names at that point without you using a title which goes back to the formality awkwardness."

"No, that's good. Reid. I like that." Shawn frowned. "Are you sure your parents didn't just write your name down backwards on the birth certificate? Because Reid Spencer sounds more like . . ."

Reid was giving him that look again, the puzzled one.

"Sorry. You were saying?"

"Shawn," Reid said, emphasizing the name and getting a nod from Shawn. "I'm not going to reveal your secret."

"You're not," Shawn repeated. "Good! This is great, in fact. Awesome, even." He frowned. "Wait, why are you not?"

Reid grinned. "I actually tried to already. I was told that it was not what it seemed, that you were part of a special ongoing operation, and then I was asked to keep the information to myself." He half rolled his eyes. "The 'mind my own damn business' was sort of implied."

Shawn frowned. "By who?"

"I was also asked not to reveal that."

Shawn's eyebrows rose and his mouth opened after a moment.

"Not even to you," Reid said.

Now Shawn's brows drew down in a scowl. "Then why did you even bring it up, dude?"

Reid shrugged. "I was curious how you would react to being confronted by someone with more the standard skepticism."

Shawn snorted. "And?"

Reid's head tilted. "Not exactly what I would have expected as a profiler, but then you defy a lot of the expectations I've developed in regards to you, so it is at least consistent." He frowned. "In your usual inconsistent way."

Shawn regarded him through narrowed eyes. "All right then. Well, I—" His phone beeped an incoming text and he pulled it out. "—have a crime scene to get to apparently," he finished and stood.

"And I need to get to the airport before they leave without me. It was nice meeting you, Shawn," Reid said and offered a hand.

Shawn shook it. "It was . . . interesting meeting you, Reid."

Reid laughed. "Yeah. I get that a lot."

"So I hear you share my superpower," Shawn said as he slid his jacket on and they walked to the door.

"Which one?"

"The memory thing."

"Ah. Yes. Though I've never thought of using it the way you do."

"Yeah, uh, that was a spur of the moment thing," Shawn said, following Reid out the door. "I used to hate my dad actually for making me practice with it."

"Really? I used to amuse myself in high school and college with it when the lectures were on things I already knew."

Shawn stopped in the act of putting on his helmet. "Really, dude? That's the best you could do?"

Reid shrugged. "What? It's not like you can use it to pick up girls. They just think you're a creepy stalker."

Shawn arched an eyebrow and grinned, then pulled on his helmet and fastened it in place.

"Wait, you can?" Reid said. "How?"

"Sorry, man. Gus made me vow not to use my superpowers to corrupt anyone younger than myself." His climbed on his bike and started it up, tilting his head. "Or older than myself too, actually."

"Shawn! You can't tell me that and then not—"

Shawn waved. "Later."

"Shawn! Wait!"

Shawn drove away, watching in his mirror as Reid's shoulders slumped in defeat.

Maybe he'd take pity on the kid and send him an email later with a tip or two.

For now, he had to go commit another felony and hopefully prevent a worse one.

He frowned. And then he had to figure out who the hell Reid talked to that knew he wasn't psychic but didn't seem to care.

* * *

Review, plz & thx! :D


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